Ghosts of War
by Dr. Austin A. Winchester
Summary: Boston, July 1956. The people he had known in Korea were all here. Yet, none of them were the same. The only thing that was the same was Charles's bald head. And the way Frank Burns looked at Margaret with those beady eyes of his. Hawkeye reflects on the war and the way things have changed at a reunion three years after they said goodbye.


"Mash 4077, Best Care Anywhere" the banner above the doorway read, and Hawkeye Pierce could almost see the compound again. The swamp, the mess tent, the officer's club, the OR, and post-op were forever engraved in his memory. He remembered the still and the laughs and heartaches shared over it as if he and BJ had just shared a drink, even though it's been three years to the day since the war ended.

BJ had sometimes mentioned a reunion during the war, and while Hawkeye had humored him, he never believed it would happen. While he had been close to his fellow officers, Hawkeye wasn't sure if he would want to see them after the war. The nightmares still came of their own accord. Seeing a bunch of ghosts would only fuel them more. In fact, he was only here now because his wife insisted they go.

When he'd first received the invitation two months prior addressed to Dr. Benjamin Franklin Pierce and Guest, postmarked Ottumwa, Iowa, Hawkeye had thought he was looking at a wedding invitation and not a reunion invitation. But the words were unmistakably clear in black and white. BJ dreamed about reunions and seeing old friends, but only Radar would do it. And so here he was in Boston, Massachusetts at the Boston Park Plaza Hotel three years after the war had ended.

Stepping into the lavish ballroom, which could only have been reserved by Charles' clout, Hawkeye scanned the crowd of people he once knew. There was Colonel Potter deep in conversation with a slightly older, yet just as short, Radar. The woman on the Colonel's arm could only be Mildred. He'd seen her picture a thousand times and had heard Colonel Potter talk about her just as much. Klinger was at the refreshment table with an obviously pregnant Soon-Li. A wide-eyed toddler held Klinger's hand as he munched on a cracker. The nurses were huddled together, some holding the hand of a man, others holding young children in their arms. Hawkeye waved in greeting to them, but did not say hello as he realized he couldn't recall any of their names. BJ seemed to tower over everyone else as he strode across the room with a towhead little girl perched on his shoulders. Another patron walked up to Klinger and started chatting. It didn't take long for Hawkeye to recognize the mop of curly hair on his head. Trapper John McIntyre.

To this day, he could still feel the heartache from when Trapper had left. Coming back from an r and r, Hawkeye was excited to see his best friend again so life could return to somewhat normal after learning of Henry Blake's untimely fate. Upon learning that Trapper was gone too, Hawkeye wasn't sure how he'd survive the rest of the war. During one week, he'd lost two good friends. What was he supposed to say to a man that had once been his best friend? To a man that obviously thought no more of him than as a college buddy to drink with since he never thought of to say goodbye, to leave a note, or to even write him after getting back to the states. It's been five years since he last saw Trapper, and everything that Hawkeye wanted to say to him suddenly didn't feel right.

"Hi," he opted for instead, his hands in his pockets as he shuffled over to his old army buddies.

"Hi Hawk," Trapper returned the greeting with a small smile and a wave.

"Soon-Li, it's good to see you again," Hawkeye greeted the Korean immigrant with a kiss on her cheek. "You look good."

"Thank you," Soon-Li replied. Gesturing to the little boy still holding Klinger's hand, she introduced Hawkeye to her son. "This Myung-Dae. Mean great righteousness."

"Oh," Hawkeye gave a shy, unsure smile, unsure of how to pronounce the name and hoping he never would.

"Call him Jack," Klinger replied, clapping Hawkeye on the shoulder. Hawkeye was relieved to know he wouldn't have to remember the Korean name. While spending three years in Uijeongbu, the only Korean he had learned was "Put it on my tab." He couldn't prove it, but he was sure that BJ and Margaret only bothered to learn "Put it on Hawkeye's tab."

That's when Hawkeye's brain registered what Klinger was wearing. The Lebanese was smartly dressed in a three-piece suit, and not an extravagant evening gown like he had anticipated on the drive down from Maine. "Thanks to you, Klinger, I owe ten bucks to my wife!" Hawkeye exclaimed, kicking the ground.

Klinger's jaw dropped to the ground in shock, while Trapper burst out laughing. "You?!" he managed to choke out between laughs. "Married?! Mr. I got a date with a different nurse every night! Married!"

Holding up his left hand, Hawkeye showed them the gold wedding band on his fourth finger. "Three years next month."

"Holy Toledo!" Klinger gasped, seeing the ring.

Grabbing Hawkeye's hand to inspect the ring closer, Trapper questioned him. "What you do?" He asked, "Grab the nearest nurse as soon as the war ended and ask her to marry you?"

"That would have been so much easier!" Hawkeye replied, dropping his hand to his side. Shrugging his shoulders, he asked, "why didn't I think of that?"

"Which nurse is it?" Trapper asked, wiggling his eyebrows as he looked over at the group of nurses huddled together in conversation. "Do I know her?"

Ignoring Trapper's questions, Hawkeye grabbed Klinger's shoulders in a desperate attempt to get him to change. "There's still time!" He exclaimed, shaking the Lebanese by the shoulders. "If you put on a dress right now, she'll have to pay me!"

"Whad'dya say, Klinger?" Trapper asked him, nudging his side. "That blue dress Hot Lips is wearing would look great on you and it would show off your shoulders."

"I don't know," Klinger replied, looking at the major who was talking to Colonel Potter and Mildred, while Radar shifted between groups, talking to everyone. "Though I do love that shawl she has."

"You talking about Major Houlihan?" Radar asked, joining them.

"Uh huh," Trapper grinned.

"Did you know she's married now?" He asked.

"Really?" Trapper asked, keeping his eyes on the head nurse. Hawkeye looked over at the blonde major before looking back at Trapper, trying to gauge what he was thinking before turning his attention back to her. She was thinner than she was when they'd first met her. But then again, everyone probably left Korea with their pants fitting looser. He knew he did. Her hair was darker too. It wasn't quite brown as they'd first suspected her natural color to be, but rather a dirty, dishwater blonde. She'd obviously grown tired of bleaching it.

"Yeah," Radar said. "She married some doctor and left the army, and is living in Portland now."

"Huh," Hawkeye commented.

BJ came up to the group and put one hand on Trapper's shoulder and the other on Hawkeye's shoulder. "What are you guys talking about?" he asked.

"Did you know, Margaret's married?" Hawkeye asked, turning his attention to BJ.

"Yeah," Trapper added, looking at BJ. "According to Radar, she's living in Oregon now."

"You know, there is a Portland, Maine," Hawkeye said.

"She wouldn't be living in Maine," Trapper replied, shaking his head.

"Why not?"

"Cause that would put her way too close to you!" He exclaimed in reply, causing the others to laugh.

"It's only a ten-hour drive to Mill Valley from Portland," BJ commented, "Maybe I could convince her to come visit. I think she and Peg would get along great."

"I think Lou would like her too, if she doesn't bring up the nurse chasing," Trapper agreed, looking at BJ. "Besides, I want to meet this stick-in-the mud she married."

Realization dawned on Hawkeye as he listened to two men who at different times had once been his best friends. Their conversation sounded more like two good friends and not two strangers who had just met. "Wait, wait, wait, wait," he said in a rush, leaving his friend's side to stand over by Radar so that he was looking at BJ and Trapper both. "You two know each other?"

"Yeah," BJ shrugged, "We work at the same hospital. His son Benny is a year younger than Erin," he added a moment later.

"The two are inseparable," Trapper explained.

"It's so cute," BJ smiled.

"Oh," Hawkeye nodded, with a mocking smile. "Small world."

He had known that Trapper and his family lived in San Francisco, and from BJ he knew that Mill Valley was a suburb of San Francisco. San Francisco was a big city, so Hawkeye never dreamed that the two would ever actually meet. Looking around the room again, Hawkeye realized just how much everyone had changed. Trapper had a son now and was best friends with BJ. Klinger and Soon-Li had a son and were awaiting the arrival of another baby. Radar, while still just as short, no longer had his baby face and was sporting a scruff of facial hair. Father Mulcahy had hearing aids. The nurses that had been married now had children and the nurses that weren't married, now were. The people he had known in Korea, were all here. Yet, none of them were the same. The only thing that was the same was Charles's bald head.

And the way Frank Burns looked at Margaret with those beady eyes of his.

"Excuse me, fellas," Hawkeye said with a mischievous grin, leaving his friends to pour himself some punch from the refreshment table. Taking a sip of the pink beverage, he grimaced at the foul taste. Watered down punch, like most of the food they had been served in Korea was, did not taste very good. With his drink in hand, he strode across the room in three long strides so that he was directly behind Frank and Margaret.

Hawkeye could hear everything Frank was saying. He nearly snorted at the irony of Frank giving up his private practice to work in the VA hospital in Indiana. Recalling the first year of the war, Hawkeye remembered Frank bragging about his private practice, his expensive house, and two cars, all the while looking down at him because he had been working in a hospital when he was drafted. Chuckling to himself, Hawkeye grinned. Well, the tables had turned. Now Frank Burns was working in a hospital, while Hawkeye Pierce had a private practice. "Pardon me, Majors," he said. The pair turned around to see him.

"That's Lt. Colonel to you, you, you degenerate!" Frank cried, correcting Hawkeye of his rank.

Rolling his eyes at Frank's poor excuse of an insult, Hawkeye handed his glass of punch to him. "Hold this, will you, Frank?" he asked. With a playful gleam in his eye, he turned to Margaret and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Major Baby," he grinned, gripping her waist with one hand, while the other tangled itself in her luscious blonde locks. Latching his lips onto hers, he dipped her as low as he physically could while keeping his balance.

All eyes were now on Hawkeye and Margaret.

"Not again," BJ groaned.

"Can he do that?" Radar asked.

"I plan on doing the same thing when my wife leaves the room," Trapper admitted.

"She's not gonna like that," Klinger mumbled under his breath.

Appalled by Hawkeye's actions, Frank incessantly poked his shoulder, trying to get him to release her. "Pierce!" he yelled. "Pierce!"

Barely pulling his lips off Margaret, Hawkeye's eyes opened a slit, enough to see Margaret's eyes flutter open at the absence of his kiss. "Not now, Frank." He mumbled, covering her lips with his again.

Frank continued to yell his name. "Unhand her, you, you buttinski!" His complaints fell on deaf ears. "That's an order!" Frank bellowed with authority.

Sighing against her mouth, Hawkeye pulled away once again. Margaret whimpered like a puppy from the lost contact, causing him to smirk at the responses his kisses elicited from her. "I'll get to you next, Frank." He promised before attacking her lips once again in a searing kiss.

Scowling, Frank planted his hands on his waist. "How dare you assault a superior officer, Captain!" He yelled, emphasizing the lower rank.

Groaning, Hawkeye pulled out of the kiss and rolled his eyes in annoyance. Keeping Margaret dipped, he looked over his shoulder at the sniveling man beside him. "Frank, it's the most natural thing in the world for a man to kiss his wife." He said, slowly standing Margaret up to her full height. Looking down at Margaret, who was gripping his jacket lapels for dear life, Hawkeye grinned at the dazed smile on her face. Three years of marriage and he still managed to make her weak in the knees.

"Wa-wi-wife!" Frank whined.

Trapper laughed a deep belly laugh. "Hawkeye and, and Hot Lips?!" He managed to choke out between his fits of mirth.

BJ raised his eyebrows, admitting, "I didn't see that coming."

"Are you serious?!" Radar screeched.

"Holy Toledo!" Klinger exclaimed.

"Jumping Josephat!" Colonel Potter cried.

Margaret glanced up into Hawkeye's blue eyes and smiled before they couldn't hold their mirth any longer and burst out in laughter with identical amused expressions on their faces. Keeping a firm grip on her waist, Hawkeye led her back to the group. "Trapper," he grinned, "I think you recognize the nurse I married."

Hawkeye glanced down at Margaret, to see her watching Trapper. Turning his attention back to his friend, he noticed that Trapper was at loss for words as he opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, trying to speak. Eventually his cracked voice squeaked, "huh?" Their laughter turned shrill at his reaction as they found themselves unable to breath from the laughter.

Radar frowned, rather confused at the couple's revelation. "But-but you said," he stuttered, looking at Margaret. Turning to Hawkeye he continued, "And you-you"

Looking from one face to the other, Hawkeye released his hold on Margaret. "Maybe we should sit down," he suggested, leading Klinger, Radar, BJ, Trapper, and Margaret to an empty table. One by one, everyone took a seat at the round table, keeping an eye on the couple in question. Taking the empty seat next to Hawkeye, Margaret scooted her chair closer to his and placed her hand on his thigh. Placing his hand on hers, Hawkeye opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by the arrival of Colonel Potter and Charles.

Leaning casually with his hands on the back of Klinger's chair, Charles gazed, scrutinizing Hawkeye and Margaret. "Alright," he said, "you've had your joke."

"No joke, Charlie," Hawkeye grinned at the bemusement on Charles's countenance.

Grinning at Charles's reaction, Margaret held up her left hand to show off the diamonds that resided there. "Hawkeye and I married after the war."

"Sufferin' saddle soap!" Colonel Potter exclaimed, "Would you look at that rock."

Glancing at the glittering diamond on her hand, Hawkeye realized that the stone wasn't large or fancy; certainly, it was nothing to admire. It was bigger than the cheap plastic Lt. Colonel Pipsqueak had given her from a box of crackerjacks, but it wasn't nearly the kind of ring he had wanted to give her. Per his dwindling bank account, the ring was fit for royalty, but to a war veteran with no place to live but his father's house and no job to work except in his father's clinic with no real money saved, the ring wasn't fit to give a pauper. Yet, Margaret had been beside herself when he'd given it to her, stating it was perfect because it came from him.

Truth be told, he wasn't even sure why she'd accepted his marriage proposal in the first place. He wasn't prominent like Charles, own a $35,000 home like Frank, didn't have the allure of a general, or the military discipline of Donald. Through the duration of the war, he stated he was nothing more than a displaced civilian, and had seen enough meatball surgery to warrant him happy to be nothing more than simple country doctor. Living in his father's house and working in his father's clinic, he'd had nothing to offer her, except what already belonged to her. His respect and his heart.

He was distracted from his reverie by the sound of Margaret's voice. "I never said anything about Oregon," She explained. "I said I work in Portland. Which I do. Portland, Maine."

Amused by his friends' expressions, Hawkeye jumped back into the conversation and leaned back in his chair and drawled, "I told you guys there's a Portland, Maine, but you all laughed at me."

"So," BJ drawled looking at Margaret, "How'd you end up in Maine?"

Because Maine was one of the most out of the way places to go when one could go anywhere they wanted.

Colonel Potter agreed. "You seemed to have had your career all planned out before leaving the good ol' 40 double 7," he said, letting his voice trail off into silence.

"I had a lot of time to think on my way to the 8063rd," Margaret replied.

"Never a good idea," Hawkeye whispered, leaning into BJ so that only he could hear.

Glancing in Hawkeye's direction, Margaret continued. Keeping her eyes on Hawkeye, she said, "And I realized that I spent my whole life going where the army told me to go. I spent my whole life doing what the army told me to, and I realized I wanted something else," she explained. Looking at BJ, she said, "I wanted a family like BJ." Next, she looked back at Hawkeye and said, "and a home like Hawkeye." Glancing at the rest gathered around the table she finished, "I knew I couldn't have any of that if I stayed in the army, and the last thing I wanted was to be swept up into another war."

The conflict in Vietnam had broken out the year before. Hawkeye figured it was only a matter of time before the U.S. officially got involved, sending boys barely old enough to shave to the front lines. When they did that, they would also be sending dedicated doctors and nurses over to perform the necessary, but evil meatball surgery to patch them up only to send them back to the front. Margaret was a natural leader and had commanded the nurses at the 4077th like a king to his subjects. Major Houlihan would have been the army's first choice to send to a MASH in Vietnam.

"So, I resigned my commission," Margaret explained with a casual shrug of her shoulders. "Arriving back in the States with no home and no job to go to, I took the first flight to Maine."

Glancing at Margaret, Hawkeye smiled and said, "I had given Margaret my dad's address in Crabapple Cove and told her keep in touch." Taking his eyes away from Margaret to look at the others he admitted, "I never dreamed she actually would."

"Before I could convince myself it was a bad idea, I was on his doorstep," Margaret finished.

Glancing back at the beautiful blonde seated on his left, Hawkeye wondered how things would have panned out if she hadn't resigned her commission. Would she have shown up on his doorstep? Probably not. Even if she had, would he have still married her? No. Medicine was his first love and could never play second fiddle to anyone, especially the army. She would have stayed with him in Maine for two days at the most and after, maybe exchanged a handful of letters or phone calls before losing contact completely. He gave her hand a squeeze under the table. He was glad he didn't have to find out.

She smiled at him, squeezing his hand back. "Next thing I know, I was in his arms," she said.

"Repeating that goodbye kiss," Hawkeye smirked. Margaret swatted his shoulder at the remark.

"That doesn't explain how you ended up, up" Radar rushed, stumbling over his words.

"Married?" Hawkeye supplied the word.

"Yeah!"

"There's really not much to tell," Hawkeye shrugged, recalling the first couple of weeks after the war. "Margaret showed up on my doorstep like she said. Dad and I were happy to have her stay with us. After three days, I said I wanted to marry her and she agreed. About two weeks later we got married. It was all very fast."

It was fast, Hawkeye admitted to himself. Throughout the war, he never pictured spending his life with Margaret. Hell, he barely admitted to himself that he even had feelings for her. For them, the faster things went, the better things were. Margaret was the kind of person to take charge in all aspects of her life and never took anything slow. Like when she came back from Tokyo engaged to Donald. Meanwhile, Hawkeye tended to overanalyze a situation, and when he did, he got scared and ran. Like he did the morning after they spent the night in the abandoned hut "sustaining each other". The less time he had to think about something, the better the results.

He hadn't planned on proposing three days after she showed up on his doorstep, and if he'd stopped to think about what he was doing, he never would have proposed to her at all. If he hadn't proposed, Hawkeye knew they would have gone on like they always had, pretending there was nothing between them and as always, leaving their feelings unresolved.

After all, they were as different as oil and water. She was army through and through. She liked discipline and order. He was a civilian caught up in a war. He despised rules and regulations and preferred to go with the flow. They had different views and couldn't agree on anything without arguing for at least 20 minutes first. But then he couldn't help but think how good they worked together. Once upon a time Margaret had described them as "a well-oiled machine". And they had been in the operating room. She shared his dedication and devotion to the patients. Her love of medicine rivaled his own.

As a child, Hawkeye never could recall a moment when his parents had argued and as he grew older that's the kind of marriage he wanted for himself. A simple marriage full of love. He wanted a quiet, docile wife who would be happy to cook and clean while he went to work to provide for them. Before the war, he would have been happy with a wife like that.

However, war has a way of stripping a person bare so that they barely recognize themselves and completely changed their ideations. It destroyed a person's mind as much as it did their body. A young man would wake up one morning to find his childlike innocence replaced with cynicism. A soldier could go away to war with hopes and dreams of the future, only to return home with barely a will to live. And years afterward, the war crept back into their dreams, reminding them of the horrors they had known.

Hawkeye had done what he could to boost morale around camp. Whether it involved lending a sympathetic ear to a soldier in post-op who'd just received a "Dear John" letter, seeing how many people could fit into one jeep, cracking a joke, or loving a nurse at night for an hour or so, everyone knew they could go to him when the war became too much. Yet when the war became too much for him, he was met with saddened eyes and whispers behind his back. No one tried to comfort him.

Except for BJ, but the man's idea of helping was by talking about anything and everything. Talking was not how Hawkeye coped. And so, in the end, BJ couldn't help him either.

Margaret didn't try to help because she knew she couldn't. Yet, she seemed to do the most for him. She didn't try to get him to talk and she didn't talk at him. Instead, she'd place a hand on his shoulder, letting him know she was there, but never saying anything. She didn't talk because there was nothing she could say to help. Even something as little as just telling him on the telephone to come back to them soon seemed the most she could do, but it also seemed to help the most.

Because after all things considered, they understood each other more than anyone else, seemed to need each other more than anyone else. They knew what made the other tick and what would rile the other person up. Fears had been shared, re-shared, lived, and relived in Korea countless times over, yet they seemed to know everything would be okay as they found solace in each other's arms when the shelling became too much or the walls seemed to be closing in.

"Major!"

Once again, Hawkeye was pulled from his trance and turned to see Margaret waving at Kellye and one of the other nurses that had been there at the end of the war. Margaret turned to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'll see you later," she promised before she left the group and went to catch up with some of the nurses. When she was only about three steps away, she stopped and looked back at him. Grinning, she said, "by the way, you owe me $10."

Watching her leave, he couldn't help but smile. Margaret wasn't the kind of woman he had thought he would spend his life with. She was brash and brazen and would never make the perfect housewife. Yet, she understood and challenged him more than anyone else. Korea had been hell and still haunted them. Though when they got home and fell into bed and the ghosts of war plagued their dreams, for once they wouldn't be afraid as they again found solace in each other.


End file.
